


Weak Spot

by aronnaxs



Series: Hobbit Kink Meme Prompt Fills [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, M/M, Prompt Fill, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aronnaxs/pseuds/aronnaxs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for Hobbit Kink Meme prompt: I've seen Bilbo's pointed ears get some attention but where's all the ear-nibbling for the elves?! Would love some Thorin/ Thranduil where Thorin realises just how sensitive the tips of Thranduil's ears are but I'll take DoyC/EoyC or even EoyC/EoyC. Anything, really, just so long as the elf gets his or her ears properly seen to.</p><p>-shameless smut where Thorin finds Thranduil's weak spot-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weak Spot

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time filling something on the kink meme so... Wow I'm kinda scared. Plus hey I'm not that experienced with writing smut haha ~ that has to change xD
> 
> Prompt and fill link on kink meme: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/8973.html?thread=20229645#t20229645

Even when he is lying on his back, legs spread open wide, and being fucked into oblivion, the Elvenking is a master at composure. Thorin thinks it must be a matter of pride; he never rejects an offer into the dwarf's bed but also never gives in to a wanton display of his pleasure. Only when he teeters over the edge does he ever allow himself to slip - teeth will dig in to his bottom lip, his hands will clench into tight fists and a desperately restrained, muffled moan will sound in his throat. It does not anger Thorin - how can it when he is buried in that tight, warm flesh? - but some dark side of him itches to force the fellow king to lose his carefully crafted control. 

The next time he beds him, he binds his hands to the bedpost and pushes back his knees so far they almost touch his ears. As he thrusts into him, he realises that he has never closely considered that part of the elf's anatomy, despite them being such a definitive part of that race. They are beautiful and slender, like every part of Thranduil, and now when he is being fucked, they have turned a bright shade of red. For some reason, that amuses Thorin. Thranduil looks up at him in question, suspicious of him after all this time, but the dwarf grasps his chin and turns him away.

Because of their height difference, he has to bend the elf's body back even further to reach his ears. But Thranduil accommodates him easily, lithe and flexible and now pinned completely under the dwarf. Thorin takes advantage of this and leans to brush his lips experimentally across an ear. An obvious shudder immediately runs through him. Thorin smirks.

"So the great Elvenking does have a weak spot," he murmurs.

Thranduil shakes his head in useless denial, but it soon becomes quite obvious that this certainly is his weak spot, even more so than the secret place inside of his entrance, or his reddened, sensitive nipples, or possibly even more than the erection lying throbbing against Thorin's stomach. He takes it in his rough hand now and times his strokes with his ravishing of the elf's ears, licking and sucking and biting until Thranduil is making noises that Thorin has only heard in his dreams. His legs come to wrap tightly around him and at every thrust he gasps desperately for breath. It is the slip in composure that Thorin has craved for. 

He nibbles on the point of his ears, tongues the shell, languidly sucks the lobe, and Thranduil moans and sighs like a virgin. "Thorin..." he whispers and his voice is laced with ecstasy. "Please, there..."

Thorin again smirks and tries to think of some witty statement to say but this new discovery has made him breathless and he doesn't think he can speak anymore. On the other hand, the Elvenking has become very vocal and he is soon pleading with him not to stop, ever, ever, turning his head this way and that so Thorin can give equal attention to each ear. Thorin considers denying him yet by this point, both are so far gone it takes all he has not to spill at every one of Thranduil's begs. 

For the first time in neither know how long, Thranduil beats Thorin to his climax. His eyes clamp shut, his head is thrown back and as Thorin licks a long stripe up the length of his ear, he nigh on screams his name. The sound of it, and the vice-like spasming of his muscles, draws Thorin over too, and together they writhe as if it is their first taste of pleasure. 

When they come down from their high - and it takes Thranduil a good deal longer as he struggles to regain control of his breathing, Thorin cannot help but feel a sadistic thrill at the deep blush on the elf's cheeks. He has finally broken that tightly drawn composure, allowed a glimpse at what is behind the mask. He likes it, and is not ashamed to admit it. 

Thranduil glares at him as he is freed from his binds and then cleans the mass of drying liquid from his otherwise unblemished body. "Curse you, Thorin Oakenshield," he says, but it only earns a dark laugh from the dwarf. 

"Oh, you don't understand, O Elvenking," he mutters. "Now that I know your weakness, the next time I make you come, it will be by touching your ears only."


End file.
